


Tigers Above, Tigers Below

by AudreyV



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Magical Artifacts, Multi, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tigers above, tigers below, and Claudia Donovan looks up to see two red, ripe, mind-blowingly decadent strawberries, right in front of her. What’s a modern, sexually open-minded warehouse tech girl to do?</p><p>Well, she’d probably Tesla the tigers and run like hell, but that was because being mauled by wild animals can really screw up your day. </p><p>Being mauled by Myka Bering and H.G. Wells was a different situation entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tigers Above, Tigers Below

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhoenixFalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFalls/gifts).



> This was written for the Femslashex exchange, but because I'm a discombobulated artist I managed to get confused and miss the deadline. (Classic Audrey move, right there.) But I figure there's no reason why PhoenixFalls shouldn't have this anyway--- and I hope they like it even though it was late. 
> 
> Many thanks to lilacsigil for beta reading this for me. I've never worked with a beta before and you made my first time grand! 
> 
> And for all you hardcore Myka/H.G. shippers, have no fear: those two are totally soulmates.

The voice that purred in Claudia Donovan's ear was only half as insistent as the four hands that were pulling at her clothes.

"I can't wait to make you come, darling girl," it murmured, the words (or was it the accent?) sparking a fire that traveled down Claudia’s spine to the apex of her thighs.

That same heat branched out along her ribs like fingers before enveloping her entire midsection in its warmth. Hot spots broke out under her shirt everywhere H.G. Well’s hands roamed.

"Helena, you're being greedy." Myka Bering looked up from where she was kneeling at Claudia's feet, unbuckling her belt. "Have you consider that maybe I want to be the one to make her come?"

"Ladies, ladies, let’s, uh... I think it's probably best that neither of you does... that. Or has anything to do with my, uh, coming, anywhere... or ever, okay?" Claudia breathed a sign of relief when both H.G. and Myka stopped laying waste to the fasteners of her clothes and hastily pulled her shirt back down over her stomach.

"We could take turns," H.G. suggested brightly after a moment of contemplation.

"Rock paper scissors for who goes first?"

"I don’t believe we had those at Warehouse 12."

"It's a game of chance you sometimes use in decision-making. There are three options and the pairs of--"

Claudia tuned out Myka’s explanation of the nuances of rock, paper, scissors, and searched her memory for any artifact that could be causing them to behave so strangely.

She’d had a full day at the Warehouse but couldn’t remember anything in particular that would spur sexual desire and she had no clue how she ended up as the object of their affection. She was puzzling the matter when H.G.'s raised voice interrupted her train of thought.

"But there's no logical set of assumptions under which something as fragile as paper could possibly beat stone!"

"Rock." Myka corrected. Before H.G. could whinge any further, Myka put her hands up in the air in surrender. "Fine! We'll flip a coin."

"I was going to suggest we duel for honor, but a coin toss will suffice."

Claudia didn’t have the inclination to wait to see if it was heads or tails. She had to find and neutralize whatever artifact was in play, and it had to be done before anyone (read: Artie) realized anything was wrong.

It had been a completely ordinary day of epically boring inventory. Claudia had started with a tacky rain lamp with the plastic statues of the three graces that made anyone who looked at it nostalgic for the 70's (the downside was that it made anyone who looked at it nostalgic for the 70's)-- no mention in the description of sapphic lust, so it probably wasn't that one. After the lamp, she'd dealt with Jimmy Hoffa's keyring, which would have been way cooler if it wasn’t still covered in mouldering bodily fluids. She figured she could discount that one pretty easily too.

After Hoffa, she headed to the hall of Ye Olde Time Entertainment, wardrobe section, to hang the tightrope walker costume. (Barnum & Bailey's, circa 1921: the rope snapped, as did the young performer's neck when she plummetted to the ground. Wear the costume and you can balance effortlessly on the thinnest ledge or wire, but you’ll also have really bad luck.) Post-costume she headed back to the B&B, where she poured herself a glass of lemonade and headed for her room. She’d only been back about an hour where she was interrupted by...

Oh crap. That wasn't quite right.

Marlene Dietrich's jacket.

When Claudia hung up the poofy crinoline of the tightrope walker get-up, one of the lapels grazed her bare wrist. And, well, by then, the damage was done! She’d already touched it, so she figured it couldn’t make things much worse to try it on. (Verdict: smokin’ hot.) She sprayed herself with prophylactic goo beforehand and neutralized the jacket afterward, but it was pretty damn obvious she had missed a spot.

When Artie found out about this, she knew she’d be banished to Desk Jockey duty for MONTHS. Yadda yadda, no messing with artifacts, major downsides, don’t you ever listen, these are not toys, ad nauseam.

Claudia hoped with the desperation of one who was _potentially totally screwed_ that she was hadn’t caused this situation. She told herself that it could have been a different artifact, one that was affecting the other two agents, who were still loudly bickering over which one of them should be heads.

It was even logical for it to be her fault! After all, _her_ night had been perfectly mundane until she was interrupted by Myka's knock and H.G.'s curiously well-timed tumble into the room moments later, and _they_ were the ones behaving strangely.

"You can't use a two-headed coin, Helena. That's cheating!"

"I’m not cheating. I’m changing the rules.”

"I should have known you had an ulterior motive when you called heads."

"Guys, guys, mi casa es su casa, you can stay as long as you want, but I've gotta jet. I have a very swanky tux jacket to neutralize, lest I incur the wrath of Artimus Prime." Claudia thought she had a good chance of evading them, but the two brunettes closed ranks, blocking her path.

"You work too hard, Claud." Myka sauntered toward her. "You should relax."

"Myka Bering, telling me to relax? Now I know you've been whammied."

"I agree with Agent Bering’s observation. You do seem tense,” H.G. chimed in. She turned to Myka with a very serious expression. “Perhaps we can put aside our differences? For Claudia’s sake.”

Claudia did not like the smile the two women shared.

"We do make a great team." Myka agreed.

Jinkies. She did not like that smile one bit.

An wordless truce struck, both women surged forward, quick like vipers, forcing Claudia to take several steps back. Her calves hit the bed (how had they gotten her across the room so fast?) and she tumbled butt-first onto the bed. H.G. was quick to shuck the denim vest from Claudia’s shoulders as Myka began to divest her of her Doc Martens.

“This is such a bad idea,” Claudia protested as H.G. slithered onto the corner of the bed nearest her. The tip of her tongue fluttered at Claudia’s earlobe before trailing barely-there kisses down her neck. The redhead's mind reeled when sharp teeth nipped at the skin above her clavicle.

Claudia’s head lolled back, the movement prompting a murmur of approval from H.G., who began to lavish attention on her neck in earnest. Myka finished removing Claudia’s boots, which she placed on the tiny rug near the door, mismatched neon socks tucked carefully into each boot because, well, Myka.

“Someday I’ll have to teach you about the wonders of spontaneity,” H.G. quipped over Claudia’s shoulder. The curly haired agent rolled her eyes, then dropped to her knees, agile fingers making short work of Claudia’s belt buckle, button and zipper.

"You guys haven’t read page 281 of the manual, huh? I’m pretty sure this falls under ‘artifact-induced fraternization,’" the young woman joked as H.G. yanked the hem of her t-shirt up and Myka tugged on the waistband of her jeans.

Well, half-joked.

Sort of joked because hot damn, she'd definitely spent some quality time imagining this exact scenario, sort of didn't joke because the thought of doing anything with either Myka or H.G. -- much less both -- was terrifying. Yet here she was, jeans down past her knees, Myka giggling at the incredibly chic Robin underwear she’d put on that morning. Claudia was trying to think of a witty retort when H.G. succeeded in her quest to peel off the t-shirt, which she sent flying across the room.

Myka moved in closer. The tiny buttons from the agent’s shirt were pinpricks of cold on Claudia’s bare abdomen. H.G. slid behind Claudia, hands snaking around to firmly grasp her hipbones, effectively trapping the redhead between them. To twist away from Myka was to deepen the contact with H.G., and vise versa.

Claudia Donovan was stuck between the _sexiest_ rock and the _sexiest_ hard place.

Her predicament reminded her of a story Jinxy told as part of his relentless effort to explain Buddhist philosophy to her. It was about a woman who finds herself clinging to a vine on the side of a cliff, facing certain death.

"Tigers above, tigers below," he’d said. Claudia knew the story was about living in the moment or some Zen nonsense like that, but as H.G. and Myka kissed each other over her shoulder, she was definitely identifying with that tiger part.

She could make a break for it, neutralize the jacket, get in big fat trouble with Artie and have things be totes awkward with Myka and H.G.. Or, she could pretend the jacket thing never happened, happily do stuff in a hot way with two really attractive women, neutralize the jacket on the sly, pray Artie never found out and have things be totes awkward with Myka and H.G.. Bona Fide Genius Brain versus Boner-fied Teenage Hormones.

God damn Dietrich and her impossibly sexy jacket.

“That feels incredible,” Claudia heard herself mumble, a shiver coursing through her as H.G. sucked on her earlobe. That settled it. Teenage boner: 1, genius brain: 0.

Just then, one of H.G.’s hands veered south from Claudia’s hipbone, bold fingers sliding easily under the waistband of her underwear, prompting a startled exclamation.

"Wait! Stop. I mean, don't like, stop-stop, but... uh. Slower?" Claudia sputtered as she dragged H.G.’s wandering hands back to her waist and away from parts unknown.

"Agent Donovan." H.G. saying her name was always unnervingly sexy, but that “agent” part was way more of a turn on than it should have been. "Are you nervous?"

"No. No! Why would I be nervous? I'm the opposite of nervous. Just because I've never done this before doesn't ipso facto equal nervous, I think 'contemplative' is more like--"

"Never done what before?" Uh-oh. Myka serious face. Crazy wide eyes, set jaw, chin in the air serious Myka face.

"Oh, two women at once? Don't worry, it isn't all that different from one," H.G. purred reassuringly as her hands, having again been shooed away from the good stuff, settled for roaming Claudia’s chest.

"No, I... between being locked up in the loony bin and obsessing over finding Joshua, I haven't really worked on this kind of interpersonal… stuff."

H.G.'s hands stilled, then slowly moved away from the hardening nipples they’d been searching for so zealously. When both women took a step back, Claudia found herself breathing easier, although the relief was accompanied by a rather sharp pang of disappointment.

"You mean, you've never engaged in any... " H.G. twisted her hands in the air, groping for words, before landing on "... Amorous congress?"

"Really, H.G.? ‘Amorous congress?’ Actually, no, I haven’t. Now let's all have our ‘Claudia Donovan is a virgin’ moment and move on.”

"So you’ve never slept with anyone?"

Myka, too, had evolved from Serious Myka to _Serious Myka. “_ No men? Nobody?”

“Last time I checked.” Claudia grabbed a shirt off the floor and pulled it over her head.

Myka took a moment to process this information. She wrenched her fingers through her curly brown hair as if it would help her think. Claudia ran her fingers through her own hair to see if that would sort things out for her as well. Spoiler alert: Nope. Still felt a powerful compulsion to do both senior agents.

"Look, it’s not like I’m sweet sixteen and never been kissed, I've done stuff--"

"What stuff?"

"Second sorta maybe third base?"

"A sporting metaphor?" H.G. looked nonplussed.

"But it's not like I have a hymen or anything. Totally already taken care of. Not much else to keep a girl occupied at night in solitary, if you know what I mean." Her laugh fell flat under the sober gaze of the other women. "This just got awkward, didn't it?"

"It’s been awkward for several minutes, actually." Myka exhaled, then sunk down onto the foot of the bed and gestured to Claudia to sit beside her. Once she had done so, H.G. perched on the bed on the other side of Claudia.

Myka turned to H.G., her investigative gears visibly whirling. “Does something feel off to you about this?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m still back at ‘third base.’”

"Not the time, Helena." Myka stared at Claudia for a moment before continuing. "I’m just… getting a weird vibe."

"Thanks, Pete."

"Claud, your first time shouldn't be some artifact-induced orgy."

"Threesome.” H.G. corrected. “Orgies require four or mor-- oh, wait, I know. 'Not the time, Helena?'"

Myka pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Losing your virginity is a big deal. It’s a highly symbolic passage into womanhood. Your first time should be with someone who's really special to you. Someone you love, who you trust implicitly to share that kind of vulnerable moment.” Myka looked pointedly at H.G. before continuing. “We are going to leave before something happens that you'll regret tomorrow."

Myka seemed prepared to hug Claudia, but thought better of it. She stood, moved towards the door and half-waved, half-shrugged. Claudia half-shrugged back.

"I'm not leaving." H.G. crossed her arms and cast a defiant stare at Myka, who glared before firmly taking her arm.

"Yes, we are."

As Myka pulled her toward the door, H.G. turned back. "Whammied or not, the offer will remain on the table." A smirk danced on the edge of her lips. "Indefinitely."

"Helena!"

"Oh, you really are quite the spoilsport, Myka."

As Myka began to protest, Claudia considered the other bit of Jinxy’s story. While the woman is hanging there, she sees a strawberry plant, just within arm’s reach. With her fate already sealed, her demise only a matter of time, the only thing she can do is live in the moment... by eating, nay, savoring the strawberry.

Tigers above, tigers below, and Claudia Donovan looks up to see two red, ripe, mind-blowingly decadent strawberries, right in front of her. What’s a modern, sexually open-minded warehouse tech girl to do?

Well, she’d probably Tesla the tigers and run like hell, but that was because being mauled by wild animals can really screw up your day.

Being mauled by Myka Bering and H.G. Wells was a different situation entirely.

Claudia had just spent the past twenty minutes trying to get them to leave, and now that they were actually leaving, it was impeccably clear to her that she’d made a mistake. She took a deep breath before speaking, feeling the air filling her lungs, her ribcage expanding, the heat of H.G.'s hands and the chill of Myka’s buttons still lingering on her skin.

"I trust you.”

Both senior agents turned back.

“I trust both of you with my life. And everyone knows I am the worst at being vulnerable, and having a ‘passage into womanhood’ and all that, which, by the way, is a really unfortunate phrase, but what I’m trying to say is, I think you should stay. I want you to stay. Please.”

Claudia searched the Myka’s face for a reaction, any reaction, but the other woman’s expression didn’t reveal her thoughts, so she turned to H.G. and pressed on.

“And I want you to touch me here again.” When Claudia pointed to the spot just below her ear, H.G. mirrored the gesture, fingertip to pulse point, her teeth worrying her lower lip as if she hungered for the contact as well.

There was more Claudia wanted to say, about how she loved them, how they were both special to her, how this whole idea was totally unorthodox and weird but so was she, and so was their entire life, a life which, by the way, outsiders could never be allowed to see, but the words folded in on themselves, and all she managed to shove out was, "Please. I know that I can be my totally awkward, weirdo self with you and that's a big part of this whole 'amorous congress' thing, right?”

“It is indeed.” H.G. chuckled, then moved back toward the bed while Myka remained, rigid and inscrutable, at the door.

H.G. sat down next to Claudia. The brilliant brunette reached out, fingertips grazing that maddening spot just below Claudia’s ear, before directing her next words to the woman still hovering near the door.

"I understand."

"I don't." Classic uncomfortable Myka neck-strain.

H.G. hesitated, uncharacteristically searching for words. "Claudia is young, and very dedicated to her work. At some point, she will have her One, but I suspect that will be quite a way down the road. Until then, any lover she might take will have to believe she's an IRS agent, pulling papers for a living."

"Pushing papers."

H.G.'s mouth pinched into a wry smile. "You have a remarkable ability to criticize my words while simultaneously ignoring them.” H.G. turned to face Claudia, her fingers gently flitting down the path she had left on Claudia’s neck with her mouth. “Do as you like, Myka. But I know isolation, and the impulse to be understood... to be held... even if it is only for a brief moment."

Claudia could almost see the forces pulling at Myka, who stood paralyzed halfway between the bed and the doorway for several long moments before firmly closing the door behind her.

"Two conditions." Myka stood over Claudia and gestured emphatically with her pointer finger. "Number one. Things will not get weird. Interpersonal weird. We are cowor... we are friends, and nothing changes that."

"Aye aye. Numero dos?"

Myka sat down on the other side of Claudia. "Pete. Can. Never. Know."  
f  
"I'd say that's for the best, really." H.G. mused. "I imagine he’d think we were making up the whole thing as an elaborate practical joke."

“We could take pictures. Kidding! Only kidding.” Claudia added quickly as she saw H.G.’s mental gears begin to spin.

There was a brief silence, finally broken by Claudia. “So. What now?”

"You trust us." Myka traced along Claudia's temple and cheek with her fingers, bringing the barest tip of her thumb to skip across her lower lip. The redhead leaned into the touch, catching Myka's hand and kissing her fingertips. Their eyes met and even though the girl’s lips were preoccupied, Myka could tell she was smiling.

"Thank you." They were barely words, muttered into Myka’s palm.

"Oh, darling girl, save the accolades until we've earned them." H.G. leaned toward Claudia as if she would kiss her, but bent and captured Myka's lips instead. Claudia watched, fascinated, as the pair kissed, energy so palpable passing between the two of them she could almost see it.

Wait. She could see it. The orange-purple sparkle of a freshly neutralized artifact. She held her breath, waiting for one or both to freak out now that they’d been un-whammied, but H.G. seemed perfectly calm as she broke the kiss and turned to Claudia.

"Now you," she whispered, close and hot on the side of Claudia's neck. She pressed their lips together, softly at first, though as Claudia responded in kind, the kiss grew deeper.

The inventor tasted like cinnamon and apples. Her mouth was gentler than Claudia had expected, and her movements more restrained. Despite her jokes and saucy comments, it was obvious that H.G. was far from reckless.

The languid, delicious kiss was incredible but Claudia craved more. She pulled the fastener out of H.G.'s hair and raked her fingers over her scalp, her reward a contented, melodic sigh.

"Clever girl," H.G. murmured. She grasped the hem of Claudia's t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Moments later when Claudia's bra was launched across the room, it caught on the edge of the dresser, dangling merrily as the two women pushed Claudia against the wall.

Claudia felt sure that there were more than four hands roaming the roadmap of her body, but stopped trying to keep track of who was doing what when a tongue flicked at one of her nipples. The rosy nub hardened as Myka drew it into her mouth, gently swirling it.

As the curly-haired agent peppered kisses over Claudia’s breasts, H.G. stepped back, pulled her own blouse over her head, then wriggled out of her slacks. She caught Claudia watching and bit her lower lip, maintaining eye contact as she reached to unhook her bra.

If Claudia had still had any doubt that she’d made the right decision, it would have vanished as H.G. slipped the plain black garment down her arms, revealing an expanse of gently curving alabaster skin topped off by two perfect strawberry-pink nipples.

H.G. Well’s breasts: proof that God exists.

“Darling girl, you’re staring.” H.G. scolded. She laughed when Claudia blinked and forced her eyes away. “Claudia, I’m joking. Look all you like. You’ll be touching them soon enough.”

The words made Claudia’s body quiver. She watched as H.G. turned to Myka, who’d finished folding Claudia’s jeans and was looking for an uncluttered spot to put them. The inventor snatched them from her hand and threw them vaguely in the direction of the dresser, then began to strip away Myka’s clothing, tossing each piece into the growing pile (“I’ll fold them.” “You’ll do no such thing!”).

One moment Claudia was laughing at their quibbling, and in the next, Myka was kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. Her constantly running inner monologue stopped abruptly and everything was absolutely immediate. Myka’s hands in her hair, H.G.’s hand slipping between the elastic of her underwear and her needy skin, the two other women kissing like they’d been starved for it while the inventor wrote incredible code with her fingertips.

Claudia braced herself against the wall. Elegant fingers were deftly exploring her, slipping through the folds of her center and zeroing in on the small bundle of nerves concealed there. She watched the other women kiss like they didn’t need air and was about to insist they share the wealth, when H.G.’s nimble hand found its mark.

They’d tell her later that the strange breathless noises she’d heard were coming out of her own mouth.

“Jesus, H.G.” She felt herself go weak in the knees, actually legit weak in the knees, but before she could slide down the wall into a puddle of Claudi-goo, Myka’s hands were steadying her. H.G. pulled away and Claudia whimpered in protest.

“I think this would be safer over there.”

Claudia followed Myka’s gesture over to the bed. She watched dumbly while H.G. settled herself on it, limbs aligned in a delicate, alluring pose that exposed the perfect landscape of her breasts but left other bits to the imagination.

“Yeah, totally, good, yes,” said Claudia’s mouth. ‘That is your bed and H.G. Wells is naked on it,’ shrieked her brain, as she let Myka shepherd her over. The sheer proximity of so much perfect skin had sent all rational thought into emergency lockdown.

The blue cotton sheets that caught her when she flopped onto the bed were soft. Claudia stretched out on her back, relishing how concrete the sensation was, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she almost expected to find herself alone, this moment just the product of her fertile imagination, but neither siren had disappeared.

“You look nervous.” Myka touched her shoulder gently. It was strangely reassuring, given the circumstances.

“I am.”

“Just say the word and everything stops.” Having Myka’s serious brown eyes locked on hers made Claudia feel dangerously naked, but she nodded.

She’d put her life in their hands before, and Myka and H.G. hadn’t let her down.

Claudia took a deep breath, then pulled Myka down to her. Their lips met, and the tension in Claudia’s body began to ebb. H.G., who had been observing quietly, laid down next to them, her hands beginning to roam Claudia’s torso.

When H.G.’s hand slid down the curve of Claudia’s stomach, she shivered, holding her breath as fingertips brushed the red elastic of her Boy Wonder underwear. She expected H.G. to push them aside, or drag them off, but instead the inventor’s hand detoured, gently caressing from the depression under her belly button around to the sensitive skin of her side.

After several frustrating moments of the barely-there touches, Claudia lifted her hips and shimmied out of the underwear, which she chucked over Myka’s shoulder. Those threadbare things were definitely her new holy-awesome-luck-Batman undies.

As Claudia looked from the brunette on her left to the other on her right, she flashed on the part of Myka’s rant about vulnerable moments. Her brain whirled through a spectrum of feelings, again reminding her that she’d never been quite so bare before. Somehow it was different when they were standing, even with H.G.’s hand thrust lewdly down the front of her underwear.

Then Myka curled up next to her, arms encircling her, and Claudia let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. One of Myka’s arms rested across her chest, while the other created a pillow for her head, fingers twining in the younger woman’s red hair. When Myka kissed her gently, her thoughts quieted.

“Go ahead, Helena,” Myka murmured. “As long as it’s okay with Claudia, I figured you could get things started while I stay up here.”

Claudia remembered Myka touching her face after Godfried’s spoon almost killed her; the context was so different, but the touch had the same effect. Leave it to Myka to know more about what Claudia needed than she herself did, she thought, impressed by the curly-haired agent’s apparent superpower.

She realized that both women’s eyes were on her, waiting for her go ahead. “Yeah, it’s, I got a little, uh, overstimulated over there so maybe it’s better if it’s, like, one at a time instead of the H.G. and Myka Wonder Twin Power Hour.”

“That’s fine with me, darling.” H.G.’s eyes flashed as she added, “There’s always next time.”

“Helena! That’s presumptuous.”

“Yeah! I mean, what if you’re not any good at it?” Claudia quipped, as fingertips skimmed past her navel.

“I assure you, I’ve had no complaints.”

H.G.’s fingers toyed with the dark curls at the apex of Claudia’s thighs. It was the slightest movement, but it multiplied the desire that was building deep inside her. Her back arched as that incredible hand ventured lower, skimming the sensitive skin on one side of her vulva, then the other.

Claudia’s brain flickered back into focus for long enough to remind her that the fingers that were stroking her with the same ones that built a freaking time machine, but then H.G. circled her clit and it was all she could do to keep breathing.

“I take it back, you’re really good at this,” she mumbled before she decided that sometimes words were super overrated.

Claudia, being intensely curious and an overachiever, had definitely had orgasms before, but this was different. She knew how to touch herself to deal with things efficiently, but H.G. was glorying in holding things off, alternating between applying delicious pressure, then pulling back until her touch was feather light. Each time she did, Claudia moans of protest grew louder.

Her back arched again, head tipping back, fluttering eyes opening in time to catch Myka watching H.G. with a strange expression on her face. It wasn’t the jealousy Claudia feared might be there--- because, let’s be honest, at this point she knew the two of them had to be fucking. It was closer to admiration.

Nope, love. That’s what love looks like, Claudia thought. She glanced down at H.G., who was expertly nudging her closer and closer to the kind of orgasm that lives on as legend for generations, and found that her eyes were locked on Myka’s.

Claudia felt like she was intruding on a very intimate moment, which was weird because the last time she checked she was the one getting fucked. She might have been a little upset if the energy crackling between the women (metaphorical this time) wasn’t so mind-blowingly hot.

“You’re next,” H.G. growled at Myka, as Claudia’s lithe body convulsed, edging closer and closer to release.

“Actually, I have a better idea,” Myka replied, disentangling herself and laying Claudia’s head back on a pillow.

“Myka, you can’t ditch me at a time like this,” the redhead groaned, head thrashing on the pillow. “I am seriously starting to doubt your commitment to sparkle motion.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just calling heads,” Myka said, grinning at the astounded look on H.G.’s face. “What? I’m merely changing the rules, Helena.” Hands slid along Claudia’s inner thighs as H.G. shifted to one side.

“New rules, awesome,” Claudia gasped.

Myka's lips were on her then, sucking gently on her inner thigh before traveling higher. Claudia’s hips bucked and her breath caught in her chest as the brunette neared her destination. H.G.’s fingers drifted away from her clit, abandoning the circular motions to dip lower as Myka kissed her hipbone. Fingertips parted her folds and stroked her, tracing the edges of her entrance. Claudia shivered, then moaned as a hot, wet mouth began to devour her.

"You like that, darling?"

"I... oh god." Her own hands were nothing in comparison to the sensation of Myka's lips and tongue exploring, as H.G. slid one finger inside her.

"Fuck," she mumbled, wishing she’d experimented more with penetration on her own. The feeling was unusual. H.G. kissed her gently as Claudia processed, deciding quickly that it was, in fact, extremely pleasant.

"More?" she asked a few moments later. Claudia felt the inventor pulling away, then teasing with the tips of two slender fingers. “Please,” and god, she was begging, Claudia Donovan doesn’t beg anyone for anything but she’ll make an exception because, oh how the pressure was building in her spine as H.G. eased inside again.

This time she had an overwhelming sense of being filled. It didn’t hurt exactly, but she tensed and her impending orgasm receded as her body struggled to adapt to the intense sensation.

Feeling her go still, Myka lifted her head and slid her hand up to caress Claudia's abdomen reassuringly.

"Just breathe," she whispered before enveloping the bundle of nerves with her lips.

Claudia complied, her head tipped back, eyes closed, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she focused on keeping air rushing into and out of her lungs.

"I can feel you relaxing," H.G. whispered. Claudia opened her eyes to see the inventor looking down at her, waiting for direction. The discomfort was steadily being replaced by pleasure as Myka’s lips and tongue ministered to her.

“Go to it, H.G.,” and the words were barely out of Claudia’s mouth before H.G. shifted, and any potential witty follow up she’d planned was usurped by a long, throaty moan.

H.G. found a rhythm, gently moving inside her, while Myka’s mouth drove Claudia higher than she imagined possible. She knew she was flushed, sweating, core temperature soaring as her body sang under their deft, undivided attention.

Claudia felt herself reaching the point of no return. She inhaled sharply as her body began to spasm, back arching completely off the bed as every inch of her tensed up and then blissfully let go.

It was everything beautiful all at once. Logically Claudia knew it was just biology-- a rush of endorphins, intended to make sex fun so the human race would reproduce-- but as she came, she thought that this is what religious experiences must be like. Myka crawled up to lay next to Claudia, but Helena continued to move gently as her body thrashed and jerked, finally going still as the girl collapsed backward onto the bed.

Claudia was vaguely aware of H.G.’s hand pulling away from her, leaving muscles wracked with aftershocks in its wake. Her eyes were closed, had closed at some point during the orgasm, and stayed that way for several long moments as she came down.

When Claudia’s eyelids fluttered open, she saw that H.G. and Myka were kissing, hands in each other’s hair, both looking rather pleased.

“So… that was awesome.”

“Glad it was worth your while,” Myka joked. “You look pretty wiped out, so we’ll just---”

“No, just give me a minute.” Claudia felt her cheeks getting redder, if such a thing was possible. “I wanna do stuff too.”

Luckily Claudia was able to rebound quickly, thanks to being both young and fully caffeinated. After a few moments of watching the other women kiss, she sat up, looked from Myka to H.G., and shrugged.

“So. Where should I start?” she asked and then, oh god, H.G. was guiding her hand down. She ran her fingers experimentally through the soft hair, before letting herself grow bolder.

"You're so wet. I haven't even touched you. "

"Just touching you is enough. The way you move, the feel of your body clenching around my fingers, the way you look when you come---it’s all very arousing. I think my favourite part is how you taste on her mouth." H.G. leaned over to devour Myka's lips.

As the two kissed deeply, Claudia decided that probably Dietrich's jacket was the best artifact ever and she'd need to keep that one in her private collection, rules be damned.

As she watched the kiss evolve into a duel between mighty forces, Claudia concentrated on the motion of her hand. Her fingers slipped easily between H.G.’s parted lips, zeroing in on her clit.

"Inside, darling," H.G. gasped several moments later, wrenching her mouth away from Myka, who was breathless. "Start with your first and second fingers." Claudia did so, slowly, pleased to see the inventor responding with shuddering limbs.

"How do you like it?" Claudia asked, suddenly shy.

"Hard," Myka volunteered, and H.G. laughed.

"She's right. I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much."

Claudia nodded, then switched their positions so H.G. was reclining in between her and Myka. Before she could talk herself out of it, she crawled down the length of H.G.'s curvy ivory body. She took a quick detour to taste one of those strawberry pink nipples, but found that she couldn’t really do that and keep her hand moving in a steady rhythm, so she skipped down until she was nestled between the inventor’s thighs.

Claudia dipped her head, hesitant, and trailed her mouth low enough to drag her tongue around H.G.'s clit. The gasp from the inventor felt like an accomplishment, so Claudia redoubled her efforts, experimenting with flicking with the tip of her tongue and lapping with the flat part. H.G. moaned loudly as Claudia rocked her hand, thrusting gently as her mouth went to work.

"She’s right. You are a fast learner," Myka said. She had moved to the head of the bed and was holding H.G. as both of them watched Claudia pleasure her.

"You know me, gifted at pretty much everything," Claudia replied cheekily before turning her full attention to the task at hand. H.G.’s hands were in her hair, unabashedly holding her in place as Claudia used her tongue to traverse the hills and valleys of the Brit’s center.

One moment H.G. was murmuring encouragement, and the next she was crying out. Claudia did her best to hang on as the other woman’s body thrashed, muscles shuddering around fingers, abdomen rippling, back arching, legs flailing. After a few moments, H.G. collapsed back on the bed, a satisfied smile on her face.

All three were still breathing heavily when the chirping of a Farnsworth sent them rifling through their discarded clothing. Claudia found it, automatically flipping it open. When Artie flashed onto the screen, she realized she was still naked and brought the device as close to her face as she could in the hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

“Claudia, why do you have H.G.’s Farnsworth?” Artie’s eyebrows drew together in the center to form one intimidating line.

“She must have left it when we were discussing inventory earlier.”

“Well, when you see her, tell her that I found Edna St. Vincent Millay’s little black book in the box of junk she was going through earlier. I neutralized it, but I wanted to make sure she hadn’t been affected by its field trip.”

It wasn’t the jacket! Claudia: 1, Tigers: 0! She felt like singing, but kept her expression very serious as she asked, “Edna St. Vincent Millay’s little black book?”

“Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, early 20th century. Famous for her affairs with both men and women, many of whom she listed in the book along with their personal tastes and proclivities.”

Claudia glanced over at H.G., who was looking unusually contrite. “So what does it do?”

“Oh, nothing too terrible, just seems to uh, lesson inhibitions among those who touch it and, to a lesser extent, anyone who touches them. Wait, you didn’t touch H.G., did you?” Grumpy eyebrows transformed into alarmed eyebrows.

“No, definitely did not touch H.G.,” Claudia said quickly. “So, what’s the down side?”

“The down side is the same as the upside! It lessons inhibitions, particularly in relation to... redheads.” Artie glared into the Farnsworth and Claudia thanked every deity possible that those things were in black and white so he couldn’t see her blush. “Do not get any ideas, Claudia. I’m putting a special anti-Donovan containment field around this one.”

“Artie, I’d never use an artifact for personal gain. I mean… I won’t use an artifact for personal gain again. Learned my lesson. Plus I don’t need an artifact to get---”

Suddenly Artie’s glaring visage disappeared and the screen went dark.

“Claudia, I am so---”

“H.G., no apology necessary. Weird artifact shit happens all the time, and as getting whammied goes, this was kind of the best thing ever.” She grinned and turned to Myka who had found the other two Farnsworths and was lining them up on the bedside table. “Okay, Myka’s turn!”

“Unfortunately, I think I’m finished for the evening.” Myka laughed at Claudia’s incredulous expression and added, “Helena is an excellent multi-tasker.”

The inventor laughed and then pressed her fingers to Claudia’s mouth. Claudia sucked them into her mouth, tasting Myka on them and drawing an exhilarating moan from H.G..

It hadn’t occurred to her that the two women would taste different, but they did--- H.G. was sweet with a hint of tartness, while Myka tasted richer and smokier, almost like coffee. Claudia decided that this was a phenomenon deserving of further study. She was deep in thought when she realized H.G. and Myka were staring at her.

“Well, I’m glad to know that you have no regrets.” H.G. said, a satisfied, almost smug expression on her face.

“That’s not true. I seriously regret that neither of you can match my youthful stamina.”

Myka’s eyes widened and H.G. straightened, eyebrow quirking at the obvious challenge.

Claudia was basking in her own cleverness when she found herself flat on her back, H.G. glaring down at her.

“I may be 147 years old, but I can most certainly still keep up with you.”

 

\---

The next morning, Claudia was the first one at the breakfast table. She grabbed for a blueberry muffin and shoved a huge piece into her mouth, chewing contentedly.

“Leena, where are these from? They’re incredible.”

The innkeeper looked at her oddly. “They’re from the bakery. The same bakery they’re always from.”

“Right.“ Claudia was saved from further interrogation (for Leena was, without a doubt, suspicious) by the arrival of Steve Jinks. “Jinxy! Muffin?”

He accepted the proffered pastry. “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

“I’m in a great mood. Wanna know why?”

“Probably not.”

“Ask me.”

“Fine. Claudia, why are you in such a good mood?”

“I’m glad you asked! I’m in such a good mood because I finally understand your tiger story.”

Steve smiled as he stirred two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. “New-found interest in Buddhism?”

“Not exactly. But it made me realize that life is short, so when faced with an impossible situation, the only thing to do is eat the strawberries.”

“Claudia, I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“Well, eat the strawberries and then keep your fingers crossed that Artie doesn’t find out you did because eating the strawberries may or may not be expressly prohibited on page 281 of the manual,” she said as a shirtless, half-asleep Pete staggered into the room.

“You know, that joke is getting old,” he mumbled, reaching for Claudia’s muffin and taking a huge bite. “I swear, next slow day, I will read the whole manual, but for now, look at what I can do,” he said, grabbing a thick volume off a nearby bookshelf and flipping to page 281.

“'Amorous congress between agents is prohibited. Agents are also advised to refrain from romantic fraternization of more innocent varieties as well due to the possibility of artifact-influence. Exceptions may be made at the discretion of the Caretaker.' Yikes, having to ask Mrs. Frederick if you can do it? No thanks.” He clapped the book shut and turned to Jinxy (who was laughing) and Claudia (who was blushing redder than her hair.) “Well, the joke’s on both of you, because now that I know this rule, you’ll never get the chance to ride the Lattimer wave.”

“Were we going to in the first place?” Jinx asked.

“I’m open minded,” Pete insisted.

“Whoa, mental picture I soooooo did not need.”

“Jeez, Claudia, don’t knock it til you try it. These rules are really just guidelines anyway. Even Myka, who is the most uptight rule-follower I know, is pretty well versed in amorous congress, judging from the sounds I hear coming from---score, more muffins!”

Leena, who’d come back from the kitchen with a new basket of the baked goods, rolled her eyes. “Yes, Pete, they’re the same muffins we always have.” She took the manual from him and leafed through it. When she found the page she was looking for, she tore it out, then roughly re-shelved the book. She then crumpled up the page and tossed it into the fireplace.

“I never liked that rule anyway,” Leena said sweetly, winking at Claudia, who realized with a rush of embarrassment that the innkeeper’s room was right next to her own.

“Artie is going to ground you for life.” Jinx patted Claudia’s head gently. “I hope it was worth it.”

“Jinxy, I cannot begin to tell you how worth it it was.”


End file.
